What the people want

It just won't matter how hard you worked,

Man-to-man with all the feelings you hurt.

Engraved on the city not the titles you held

But the ones that you held, touched, messaged and missed,

Beside the wife of your youth, the bride that you kissed.

The power, the acclaim, the potion, summer and fall

Reside amidst the midst of rain, in the writing on the wall,

Too busy to care, too busy to read, too busy to love beyond what we see.

Too busy to think, too busy to drink, too busy to learn ... Work, work, work, work, work—now, it's his turn.

Shut up. You arrogant ... Taunt, taunt, taunt and taunt.

Take a picture. All is lost. Give 'em what the people want.